


Yourself Or Someone Like You

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Law & Order, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Phone Conversations, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7185623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yourself Or Someone Like You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shirayael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirayael/gifts), [suchterriblesilence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchterriblesilence/gifts).



> Still not sure where these two are taking me yet.....

"Carmichael."

Abbie had just managed to find her phone amid the files she was going over before the call went to voicemail, and she tucked it between her chin and her shoulder as she opened another folder. She was up to her elbows for the case she was working on, which meant lots of ten hour days. She'd been in the office since eight, and though it was closing in on noon, she knew she'd probably end up eating a fast lunch at her desk. There was silence on the other end of the call.

"Carmichael." Impatient now, because she really _could_ be working if her mystery caller had suddenly lost their voice.

"Counselor."

Amanda had just gotten home from a twelve-hour stakeout that had resulted in sixteen arrests, and she was looking forward to a hot shower and possibly some food before crawling into bed for some well-earned sleep. She'd taken one boot off, which had delayed her response, and the other came off to hit the uncarpeted floor of her apartment with a muted thump. She dug her toes into the couch cushion as she stretched out, the cellphone in her left hand. Her shoulder holster dangled from the coat rack. She'd have to remember to secure the weapon before she crashed.

"Detective Rollins." The brief spate of annoyance subsided as Abbie marked her place with a scrap of paper before closing the file. It had been three days since she had met the blonde by chance, and she hadn't allowed herself to dwell on the chances her phone would buzz. A glance at the wall clock said that it was inching towards twelve.

"Are you sober?"

"As a judge," the cop replied, amusement clear in her voice. "I just walked in the door, actually. Spent the last couple of hours prying answers out of suspects and tryin' to see what was true and what was a lie." Amanda looked at her watcch as she took it off and dropped it on the coffee table. "You're probably workin' too."

"Yeah. We're in the middle of deposing witnesses, but this is the highest profile case we've worked all year so we've been able to get some extra help, pull some people in from less active offices."

The blonde made a humming noise into the phone. It wasn't in her nature to pay attention to the politics of the job, but she'd heard about the work Abbie had done with the D.A.'s office, and then when she left to take the federal job. Politics might not impress her, but hard work and diligence did. She buried a yawn under the palm of her hand.

"So I was thinking, y'know, maybe we should go out sometime."

Because she had decided that the best thing was to just jump in with both feet. She'd moved what few of her things she'd brought over to Liv's while the other detective was out, and she'd scrupulously avoided any possibility of a one on one conversation. If Olivia wanted Cabot, she could have her. Abbie was bright and accomplished and, well, _gorgeous_ , which was what Amanda had noticed first. And she'd managed to make a decent impression before, despite being half into her cups. If the rumor was true, the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else.

"Oh, really?"

Abbie's naturally husky voice held dry amusement, and she tapped a pen on the desk blotter contemplatively. When _was_ the last time she'd had a date? The previous month she'd been out to dinner with another lawyer, a tax attorney named Laurel, but the vibe hadn't been right for anything else. And she'd been intrigued by Amanda's boldness - slightly drunk or not, people didn't usually come right out with 'really damn stunning' straight out of the gate. Not without making it sound sleazy, at any rate. So she'd caught up with Casey Novak after court one afternoon and asked her to join her for coffee. Although Casey had also moved on from the D.A.'s office, she'd worked with the Special Victims Unit, and a circumspect conversation told her that Rollins was an intensely dogged investigator, with the chance that that spilled over into her personal life.

"Well, yeah. I know you're deep into this case of yours, but we could at least have dinner. Everybody has to eat, right?"

The brunette waited, listening to the traffic beyond her office window and the sound of Amanda breathing on the other end of the line. It was flattering, in a way, to have someone be direct with her. Abbie knew that her reputation for being a hardass preceded her into the courtroom, and her bluntness with her colleagues and the people on the other side of the aisle added to the image of her as uncompromising. Unbending. But she'd seen the interest the blonde had been directing at her, and so the openness of Amanda's follow-up wasn't that much of a surprise.

"I suppose dinner couldn't hurt. I'm probably not going to be out of here until after six at least, but tomorrow would be better. You sound like you could use some sleep yourself."

"Yeah, I..."

The cop's words were drowned out by the next yawn, which refused to be buried beside its predecessor. "Sorry. Yeah, I was going to eat something and then hit the sack, but I think I'll skip eating. I might fall asleep in the middle of chewing, and that'd be bad."

Abbie let out a chuckle, and on her couch looking up at the ceiling, Amanda let the sandpapery sound wash over her. It was almost twelve-thirty and she could hear her bed calling her name. If she didn't want to go to sleep right here, she'd have to get up in the next minute or two. That meant finishing this conversation.

"So. Wild stab about dinner. Steak or ribs?"

The prosecutor raised one eyebrow, and it showed in her voice when she said, "Is the Texas thing that obvious?"

Amanda waited a beat, and there was a cautious note in her voice when she spoke again. "I...may have asked around. Just in case you said yes."

Okay, _that_ was flattering. Abbie leaned one elbow on the desk, put her chin on her free hand. "Tell you what, Amanda," she said, using the blonde's given name for the first time. "You get some sleep, and I'll give you a call tomorrow. I know a great little place in the east village that serves imported beer _and_ steaks. We can discuss the time later."

The blonde allowed herself a single fist pump, because for a second there she thought she'd botched it, but she was also close to exhausted. Thank God she had leeway to sleep for most of today. Stakeouts were hell, but being able to slack off a bit afterwards was a perk.

"I'll talk to you later, Abbie. I hope you get through plenty of paperwork. I'm lookin' forward to seeing you again."

They ended the call on that note, and Amanda dragged herself off of the relative comfort of the sofa for the more definite coziness of her bed, snagging her holster as she padded out of the room. The gun went into the lockbox beside her bed, and then she shucked her Dockers and draped them on the back of a chair before crawling under the sheet for some shuteye. She would wake up hungry enough to eat a horse, but that was okay.

Across town, Abbie went back to work, refocusing her attention on the file she'd been about to open before her new ringtone sounded. And she was looking forward to that next conversation as well.


End file.
